A World of Difference
by AgiVega
Summary: After Azula captures the Gaang, she decides to take something from Aang. Something important. Only Katara can hope to heal his broken soul.


**A/N:** This is an AU fanfic, assuming that Zuko didn't fight and leave his father during the invasion and that the episodes _The Firebending Masters_, _The Boiling Rock_ _1+2_, and _The Southern Raiders _never existed. Therefore Hakoda and Suki are still in prison.

**Warning:** there are mentions of non-consensual sex, even though they are far from explicit. Rated M for safety, but it is a very mild M.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously don't own Avatar. I only wish I did.

Thanks to my friend Michael for the beta.

**A World of Difference**

I've been watching the sky for what feels like hours, giddy and nauseous with anxiety – and with something else. That _something else_ is like a shining beacon in the distance, tiny but bright, its light tearing through the darkness of the day and the darkness of my soul. It lifts my spirit, filling me with hope – silly and naive, I know – when my mind, my rational half is telling me there is none left.

It is twilight. They should have arrived by now. If they'd won, they should have long returned. Then again, my naive and hopeful self adds, had Fire Lord Ozai won, he must have made an appearance by now too, and he has not. This is another tiny flicker of hope. I've been full of these flickers ever since Zuko and I defeated Azula. Ever since I healed Zuko's wounds. Ever since I tended to my own small bruises and made a discovery in the process.

My neck starts to hurt, I've been looking upwards far too long, so I hang my head a bit and rub my nape, then return my gaze to the ever darkening sky. I have to be the first to spot them. To spot _him_.

He can't have lost. Not after all he has been through. Sokka likes to claim the universe hates him, but it is not him who has been through hell lately, but Aang. I feel a small twinge of remorse at the realisation that I haven't given my brother a single thought ever since we parted company near Ba Sing Se. He might have died. Toph might have died too, and here I am, fearing only for Aang's safety.

I'm selfish. I'm a monster. I'm in love.

"Hey, you okay?" I hear Zuko's voice as he approaches. His steps are slow, his breathing laboured. It will take him a while before he's whole again after his encounter with Azula's lightning.

_Azula_. I shudder. She nearly killed her brother, nearly killed me and…

"Are you cold?"

"No," I shake my head. It's a warm late-summer night, there's no way I would tremble with cold. I tremble with exhaustion and fear instead, and with memories that resurfaced at the thought of Azula. Memories I have tried to bury deep and forget, but never managed, and I don't think I ever will. There are still vivid, horrid pictures flashing before my eyes, pictures that were burned into my memory – not with firebending, but by a firebender so twisted and ruthless you wouldn't believe she could be related to Zuko.

I know he is ashamed of his sister. Ashamed of her black heart, her insanity, and especially of what she did to Aang, even though he wasn't there to see what I saw. What Sokka saw. What Toph saw, as much as she could perceive the whole affair. She could only have heard things – sighs, moans, sniffs and sobs.

I tried not to look. Sokka did too, and he more or less succeeded. I did not. My eyes constantly returned to Aang's tear-soaked face, to his lips repeating the silent words: "I'm so sorry, Katara, so sorry"… He couldn't help it. It wasn't his fault. I know it and he knows it too, he just doesn't fully believe it. Or at least – he did not believe it for weeks afterwards.

Two whole weeks after Azula and her soldiers had captured us at the Western Air Temple Aang still kept his silence and didn't tolerate the closeness of anyone but Appa. The once cheerful boy who used to relish hugs would no longer allow anyone, not even me, to touch him. Not his hand, not even his cloth-covered shoulder. He cringed at the slightest human contact and pulled away, sometimes even fled our company. The only person he spoke more than a couple of words with was Zuko, our brand new ally who had busted us out of Azula's prison and offered to teach Aang firebending. Aang would spend his days with Zuko and Zuko alone, exhausting himself with training to the limit of passing out. I was afraid he would work himself to death, like he had almost done before the invasion, but he wouldn't listen to the voice of reason. He wouldn't listen to _my_ voice. Perhaps because he knew I had seen it all. He hated himself for it, and hated me a little bit too, even though there were only two persons who truly deserved our hate: Azula, and Ozai upon whose orders she had acted.

I still clearly remember Azula's gloating over our capture after she had Sokka, Toph and me tied to chairs and gagged. I imagine my brother and Toph would have gladly showered her with obscenities, had they had a chance. But they did not. We were denied the very ability to move, to talk, to do anything but watch and listen. At first we didn't even know what we were supposed to witness; we were seated in an empty room with wooden walls and floor, probably to make sure Toph wouldn't be able to earthbend should she manage to topple her chair and connect with the ground. Azula had obviously thought of everything. We just didn't yet know _what_ exactly she had thought of. We couldn't have been more surprised when Aang was tossed through the door, his body limp and bare.

Soon we learned that the thick wooden pole in the middle of the room did not only serve the purpose of holding the ceiling. Aang was tied to it in a half-sitting, half-kneeling position, his head resting against the pole without the support of which it would have lolled from side to side. His body looked weak, but his mind was obviously alert, for there was fear glinting in his eyes. Confusion. Shame. None of us had ever seen him naked before. I felt my cheeks burn and I cast my eyes down to give him some privacy, but I felt the urge to look up as I heard the wooden floorboard creak with approaching steps. Steps much lighter than those of the soldiers who had left as soon as they had tied Aang to the pole.

I was afraid to learn who was coming. An executioner in a mask to torture Aang? With a whip? With firebending? Would he be murdered right before our eyes?

But it was no executioner. It was Azula, and she had no intention of killing Aang – not yet, anyway. She wanted to break his soul first, not his body. And ours too by forcing us to witness it all.

Fateful moments usually get etched into your mind – not only the pictures, but the words as well. I remember every word my mother spoke before she was killed, and I remember the exact words of her murderer. The memory of those moments still haunts me, though it has paled somewhat in these past seven years. Azula's words I heard only eight weeks ago, but I'm sure I will remember them even seven years from now. So will Aang, if he lives.

I shudder at the possibility of him not surviving this day. I wouldn't survive that either.

Zuko puts his coat around my shoulders, and despite not being cold, I gratefully wrap myself into it, trying to clean my head of all bothering thoughts. But I realise I'm fighting a losing battle. As long as I can't be sure he's survived, as long as I can't hold him in my arms, my dread and doubts will always drive me back down the lane of horrid memories. Those of our captivity. Of Azula and... Aang.

"The great Avatar," Azula in my recollection says with a derisive smirk as she circles around the pole Aang is tied to. "Completely at my mercy. I expect the shirshu venom has done its job and you can't move a single limb. Don't worry, it's not a limb of yours I expect to move. It's a... let's say... another appendage."

I remember it as though it only happened yesterday: Aang's eyes widened with fear and shock at these words. He understood at once what Azula was hinting at, and he couldn't believe it. Neither could I, and judging by the look on Toph and Sokka's faces, they couldn't either. Toph's face contorted with rage, and had she not been disabled and surrounded by wood, there would have been an earth tornado sucking in the princess and spitting her out into the welcoming warmth of a lava flow. I expect Sokka would have delighted in whacking Azula with a boomerang or two. I don't know what _I_ would have done. There are so many drastic things you can do with water. Ice spears. Drowning. Waterwhip. The possibilities are endless. But I had no water at my disposal, nor could I move a single finger to bend my own sweat. For I was sweating, but Aang, bare and cold as he was, was sweating even more. I could see the tiny beads appearing on his temples and slowly finding their way down his cheeks. When he uttered a feeble "No," Azula only laughed.

"You have no say in this, Avatar. It is Fire Lord Ozai's wish for you to provide him with a special grandchild. An airbender who will grow up among us and serve us. Of course, you could say there's slight chance of success, but you'd be gravely mistaken. I would go to any lengths to fulfil my father's orders, so I've drunk a drug that increases my fertility and the possibility of conceiving an airbender through suppressing my firebending. Would you believe that I'd be willing to give up my greatest gift for you?" She shook her head with a mocking smile. "You'd be a fool to believe that. It's only temporary. You aren't important enough for me to give up something so precious for good. You aren't important enough to my father either. _You_ are not. But the baby you will give us _is_."

Aang's breathing became quick and heavy. "This... this is insane! Why would your father want an airbending grandchild? It makes no sense! None at all!"

"Oh, but it does, little Arrowhead," Azula said, and knelt over him, running a finger down the tattoo on his forehead. "Airbenders have different abilities, therefore they can serve the Fire Nation in different ways than firebenders do. They only have to be... conditioned accordingly."

"Brainwashed, you mean," Aang hissed. "Corrupted."

"Call it whatever you want," she shrugged, hitching up her skirts to position herself more comfortably on his lap. "He or she will not be aware that their upbringing does not exactly fit hokey Air Nomad philosophy. You know the saying _ignorance is bliss_. And I can assure you..." she leaned closer and purred into his ear just loud enough for me to hear, "that bringing up our little airbender will be pure bliss for Father and me. Sadly, you won't be around to help with his upbringing. You're going to die, Avatar. You will die as soon as I know for sure you have served your final purpose. So, shall we begin...?"

"Azula..." Aang said in a last, desperate attempt to plead with her good side if there ever was one, or at least with her rational side, "how do you expect to use an airbender child to serve the aims of the Fire Nation? How if there's no one around to train him?"

"I'm hurt," she sighed theatrically. "You underestimate me and my people, Arrowhead. Do you think my great-grandfather did not gather enough scrolls from the Air Temples after he had your folk wiped out? There are loads and loads of airbending scrolls in the royal library. Give our kid a little credit, will you? I'm quite sure he will be smart enough to learn from them. He might never be as skilled as you are, but... he will still be an asset."

"Please, Azula... you don't have to do this," Aang whimpered, his eyes beseeching.

She laughed and leaned closer, running her lips down the side of his face. "Give up, Avatar. Give in."

"No..." he whispered, his eyes finding mine over Azula's shoulders. I could see his disbelief, his horror and shame at having failed to dissuade the princess. And his horror grew by the second as she rubbed against him, leaving a trail of wet kisses down his neck. He couldn't even squirm, the venom paralysing him only allowed his eyes and lips to move. As Azula reached down, his eyes squeezed shut and he bit into his lower lip so hard that his teeth drew blood.

"Good," Azula growled. "At least I'm not the only one bleeding here."

For a long moment time stood still, Aang and Azula stared at each other numbly, then she began moving, clutching at his torso for purchase and burying her face in his shoulder. The floorboard creaked beneath them, even the pole shuddered. Aang once again squeezed his eyes shut, probably trying to hold back his tears, but he failed. I cried with him.

After a while he opened his eyes and looked at me, whispering that he was sorry again and again until his voice faltered. I nodded with what I hoped was an understanding, compassionate expression. I wanted to show him I did not blame him. But I knew he blamed himself. For his lack of control. For being a healthy teenage boy who responds to the female touch, whether he wants to or not.

With a final grunt, Azula fell against his chest, panting heavily. She lay there, whether for ten seconds or ten minutes, I don't know – too long for me to bear – then she drew back and scrambled to her feet, giving Aang a disgusted look. "Thanks, but one kind of bodily secretion is more than enough from you, Avatar. I'm not too keen on snot."

Aang slumped forward, his head hanging like a heavy weight. He couldn't help his dripping nose, but by the look of him he didn't care anymore. He no longer cared for anything – neither for the pool of mucus gathering on his lap, mingling with the rivulets of blood left by Azula, nor for us, his friends around him. He couldn't lift his head, but even if he could, I think he wouldn't have wanted to, anyway.

The door opened and the princess called to the guards, "Clean him and give him something to wear." She turned back to Aang once more, adding, "I must leave you now, Arrowhead. I need to lie down quick if I don't want to lose a single drop of your precious little... contribution. You had better have given me what I want, or..."

"_Or?_" Aang said in a voice I had heard so many times from him right before he entered a rage-induced Avatar state, only this time his access to the cosmic energies was blocked.

"Or your friends will suffer," Azula replied in a voice sweet like poisoned honey and left. The door banged shut behind her, only to be opened a couple of minutes later, but not by the guards arriving with clothes for Aang, but by Zuko, claiming he had come to help us escape.

"What?" Sokka and Toph hissed in unison once the Fire Prince removed ours gags.

"I've decided to join you. I want to teach the Avatar firebending," he announced in hushed tones, then, as he glanced at Aang still kneeling before the pole, filthy and violated, he blanched and gulped. "So she's done it, hasn't she? I was hoping I would arrive before she fulfilled father's orders... I'm so sorry I was late."

"Sorry?" I gasped. "You knew your sister was planning this?"

"I heard stuff... but I didn't think it'd happen so soon... Spirits, this is bad. Really bad. But I'm gonna make it up to you all. Trust me."

"Trust you?" Sokka spat. "All you've done so far was chase us around the globe and keep attacking us! Why should we trust you now?"

"Sokka..." a feeble voice said. Aang's. "He couldn't possibly ruin things even more, could he? Let him help."

As soon as Zuko cut the ropes binding my hands and legs, I crouched down next to Aang and cupped his chin to lift his head. "Are you sure about this? Letting _him_ of all people help us?"

"Yes," he breathed, his bloodshot eyes boring into mine for a fleeting second, then he looked away as if too afraid or rather, too ashamed to keep eye contact.

"Fine," I sighed and beckoned to Zuko to free Aang.

"Hold his head," the prince told me, fishing a tiny bottle out of his robes. He held it to Aang's lips. "Drink up. It will help your body overpower the shirshu venom quicker. I've heard you got three doses of it, enough to paralyse a bison."

That made perfect sense. When Azula's war balloon had attacked us at the Western Air Temple, we had all received our fair share of the venom in tiny darts shot at us by the unwavering hands of Yuyan archers. It had been dawn, we had still been asleep on the temple's terrace and had not had the slightest chance to defend ourselves. We had instantly been robbed of our ability to fight. Apparently Aang had received another two doses of the venom after we had been transported to the prison facility.

Once Aang had gulped down the antidote, Zuko took off his outer robe and wrapped Aang in it. It was acceptable as a temporary solution, and it gave Aang a tiny bit of his dignity back. At least I hoped it did, but I was aware that his dignity had suffered a terrible blow, probably an incurable, unrepairable one.

"There are some soldiers outside," Zuko admonished, motioning Sokka to help him support Aang, "but I'll take care of them."

I wasn't charmed by the idea of being freed by our one-time enemy, but decided not to comment. Aang had been right in saying our situation could not possibly be worse, so what did we have to lose? We left our cell.

"You are to accompany me and the prisoners to the main hangar," Zuko addressed the five soldiers stationed outside.

"But, your highness... the princess said..."

"There has been a change of plans, lieutenant. My father has sent new orders. I expect my sister has not yet received them as she has recently been busy with... other things."

"Yes, your highness," the lieutenant bowed slightly and waved to his men to provide us with an escort.

The next few minutes were a blur for me, I couldn't recall every moment even if I tried. All I remember is watching Aang's back as we put more and more distance between ourselves and the wooden cell. At first he had been entirely carried by Sokka and Zuko, but as minute passed after minute I could see him regain his strength and sometimes he would take a few steps and make tiny, inconspicuous airbending moves to take as much of his weight off the boys as possible. By the time we reached the hangar and the soldiers realised they had been duped, Aang was once again capable of fighting. His limbs were still shaky, his bending weaker than usual and his aim poor, but even thus he was easily the strongest bender around. He, Toph and Zuko easily outmatched our opponents, and by the time another couple of soldiers arrived – obviously tricked by Zuko like the other five –, leading Appa on a leash, I discovered a small cistern of water in a corner and entered the fray. The Fire Nation soldiers did not stand a chance against us.

As we fled on Appa, I heard Zuko laugh at something. I turned around and saw three sizeable air balloons that had tried to follow us, losing height and eventually crashing into the ground.

"I made sure they would be out of order by the time I came for you guys," Zuko said, and Toph punched him affectionately in the arm. Even Sokka allowed himself a grin.

I did not. I could not. Not when Aang was sitting on Appa's head, his fragile figure as rigid as though it were carved of stone.

"Aang...?" I called out to him, but he did not reply. That was the beginning of the silent treatment I and everyone else save Zuko suffered from for the next two weeks. I tried not to push Aang. I tried to give him space, for I knew he was suffering more than Sokka, Toph and I put together. I just wished he would finally open up, at least a little bit. I wondered if he had opened up during his training sessions, and one evening I decided to ask Zuko about it.

"We talk, but only about fighting techniques," he replied, absent-mindedly fiddling with his supper. We were all sitting around the camp fire, all, except for Aang who had snatched up his own plate and left without a word. "I don't know him as well as you guys do, but even I can see that he's no longer the same cheerful, optimistic kid I've been chasing around for months. He's somehow... hollow inside. Or perhaps not hollow... there _must be_ things in there, suppressed. Rage, I imagine. Shame. Hurt."

"What did you expect? He's been raped," Sokka replied dejectedly. His appetite hadn't been the same since our capture. Sokka, not being hungry. It was scary, somehow.

"Yeah," Toph grunted. "Too bad your crazy sister didn't capture him three weeks earlier."

"Three weeks earlier?" Zuko blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I mean Twinkletoes only had his first... you know... that sort of dream about two weeks before Azula caught us.

"What?" I gasped.

"At least, I guess it must've been his first," she carried on, "because I never noticed him having such problems earlier. Hey, Sweetness, I can sense you're shocked, but there's no need to be. I see stuff you ordinary people don't, put up with that, and trust me on this matter. Twinkletoes became a man two weeks before this whole madness. Had Psycho Princess captured him a bit earlier, she wouldn't have had much success with him, right? 'Course I'm no expert on the topic, and I'm definitely not a boy, I'm only guessing it based on stuff I heard from servants back at home. Perhaps Snoozles and Sparky can shed more light on it, hmm? Guys?"

"Excuse me," I rose to my feet. I was not interested in anything Sokka or Zuko had to say on this matter.

"The point is," I heard Sokka's voice as I headed towards the tents, "is that it was too early either way. Not that I'm saying getting raped could be tolerated at any age, but at Aang's... He's just thirteen!"

I stopped dead in my tracks and nearly dropped my empty plate. I had been trying to not think of this, but having heard it from my brother's mouth it practically slapped me in the face. What Azula had done to Aang was not merely rape. It was child abuse.

I felt a tear run down my cheek and decided against retiring. I couldn't possibly fall asleep yet.

I glanced back at the gang sitting by the fireplace and saw that neither of them was looking my way. They would surely believe I had gone to sleep. I tossed my plate into my tent with the intention of washing it later and started down the lane I had seen Aang take earlier. I had a hunch he might use some company. Even if he didn't want to talk. Even if he denied me the slightest bit of touch. I just wanted him to know I was there for him.

It took me a while to find him, not because it was dark, for the moon was nearly full and gave just enough light, but because he had moved farther away from the camp than I had expected. I finally stumbled upon him by a creek, sitting on a flat topped rock, dangling his legs over the water.

I stopped several feet from him, suddenly afraid to move any closer.

"Have you come to collect my plate?" he spoke up, keeping his head turned away from me. "I was going to take it back sooner or later."

"No. I haven't come for your plate. I've come for you."

"I can find my way back to the camp perfectly well on my own, thank you."

"I know you can. I haven't come here to escort you back. I've come to talk."

"Talk? About what? The weather? It's nice and warm. The sky? I'm not too fond of moonshine this bright. I prefer the stars which are now paled by the moon, and..."

"Aang, please stop this. You know these are not the things I want to talk to you about."

"That's too bad because I don't feel like talking about anything else."

I sighed. I knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I wasn't going to give up. Not that night.

"Aang, you know that bottling up your emotions will only make you sick..."

He snorted. "So you're saying I'm not sick yet? That's good to hear."

"No, Aang. I think you _are_ sick. But if you continue like this, your condition will only get worse, and I'm not going to sit around and watch you slowly go mad!"

"I'm not going mad, Katara!" he snapped, jumping from the rock. "I'm just..."

"You're just...?"

"Fucking hurt, okay?" he blurted out, then froze as if he'd just realised he had said more than he'd intended to. For a long moment our gazes locked, and he finally let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging. "I'm hurt," he whispered, lowering himself to the dewy grass. "I just don't know what to do about it."

"Talk about it, Aang. No matter how hard it is, let it out of your system."

"Like with Sokka when he acted like my psychiatrist before the invasion?" he said bitterly. "The invasion was like a stroll in the garden compared to this and my worries before it were like a child's nightmares of spooky teddy bears." He buried his face in his palms. "I don't even feel like a child anymore."

"But you are. And you should be," I replied, gently placing my hand on his shoulder, expecting him to shrug it off like he had always done in the past weeks. But he did not. He stiffened at the contact, but did not reject it.

"But how could I be?" he muttered, peeking through his fingers. "How when I might be father to a child myself?"

"Is that what's bothering you most?"

He nodded. "If Azula succeeded... if there really is a child... I'm responsible for its conception and its fate. But I can't do anything for it, Katara! He or she... that poor thing... will be brought up by _them_! Those twisted, evil freaks! Will he ever get love from them? Caring?" His voice faltered, unshed tears choking him. "I don't think so. And I can't help him. Or her. I just... can't."

By this time tears were welling up in my eyes too. I was touched by the realisation that after the ordeal he had been through his main concern was not himself but the baby he might have helped create. "Perhaps you will, Aang. Don't forget that Sozin's comet hasn't yet arrived. You still have time to defeat the fire lord, and when you do, we could perhaps... do something about Azula too."

"Not _when_ I do, Katara. _If _I do," he replied, insecure. I couldn't help myself: I fell back on the only thing that had always helped before. I hugged him.

This was too much for him. The touch of my hand on his shoulder he had tolerated, but a hug he did not. He gently but determinedly peeled my arms off himself and fidgeted, putting some space between us.

"I'm sorry, Katara. I'm not yet ready for this. I'm... I'm not sure if I ever will be again."

"Aang, please, don't talk like that. Surely it will only take time..."

"Time does not heal wounds like this," he said with strong conviction. "Not fully, anyway."

"Then let something else heal it," I replied before I even considered what I was saying. It was such a spur of the moment thing, purely instinctive.

"Something else? What?"

He was once again looking at me searchingly, and it began to dawn on me what I had got myself into. The idea that mere seconds ago hadn't yet been clear had slowly started to take shape – an exciting but scary shape. A tremor ran down my spine and I had to gather all my courage to not jump and run away. I had to stay and be strong. For Aang. For the boy I loved. Because this was the moment when I finally admitted loving him. Not to him just yet, only to myself. But that was just enough to push me forward.

"Hair of the dog that bit you," I replied, willing my voice to not waver.

"Come again?" he said, confused. "I'm not drunk, Katara. My so-called illness can't be healed with another drink."

"Not with a drink, for it wasn't a drink in the first place... but sometimes like cures like."

He frowned and I could almost hear the cogwheels turning in his head. "You mean… I should... have more sex with Azula?"

"No!" I said hastily. "Not with her! With... with... someone you care for."

I don't think I had ever felt so embarrassed before. I lowered my eyes, my cheeks burning, my stomach doing somersaults and my throat constricting so I could barely breathe. What if he said no? What if he was scandalised by the mere suggestion...? What if I had managed to alienate him forever? And what was taking him so long to speak, to say something, _anything_?

Eventually I chanced a glance at him and found his eyes fixed upon me, not with shock, but with surprise and curiosity.

"Are you offering to have sex with me?" he asked plainly.

"No," I replied with equal simplicity. "To _make love_."

He let out a small, cold laugh. "Is there a difference?"

"I think... there should be. Would you... care to try?"

He cocked his head, and as much as I could see it with just the moon shining above, his gaze was intent, questioning, and maybe a tiny bit hopeful. Then that glimmer of hope was gone and he heaved a sigh. "I can't expect such a sacrifice from you, Katara. It would be unfair."

"I don't think so. It's not... a sacrifice." My face was still burning with embarrassment, but with something else as well. Anticipation. "I want to help. I want this. The question is: do you want to accept my help? Would you give me a chance to try and heal you?"

Silence hung between us, heavy, almost palpable. Seconds, minutes ticked by before he reached his decision. And when he did, he took my hand and squeezed it, hesitantly but warmly. "You've healed me once before. Brought me back from the dead. If someone can do it... you can." In the pale moonshine I saw his lips tuck into a wan smile. I hadn't seen him smile for weeks and I returned it wholeheartedly. I was still smiling as he crushed his lips to mine and not so gently pushed me to the ground, his hands awkwardly exploring, rubbing, almost ripping the fabric of my dress.

I only stopped him for a moment to get rid of my clothes, knowing I wouldn't be able to explain away torn rags to Sokka. Then his lips were on mine again and I was too caught up in the moment to notice when and how he had shed his own things; all that existed for me were rough kisses, calloused hands bringing both pleasure and discomfort, and then, without preamble, a stab of pain so sharp that the breath stuck in my throat.

Recalling what Gran Gran had told me, I expected the pain to last only for a few moments, but it lingered as it was given no time, no chance to subside. Aang buried his face in the crook of my neck and kept going, the jerks of hips quick, hard, brutal. I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears. I wouldn't stop him for my life, if this was what he needed to do to get all the frustration, anger and pain out of his system, there was no way I would hold him back. I would gladly take his pain into my body to help him heal.

Suddenly he stiffened – I thought he had perhaps finished, but he had not. He stopped moving and lifted his head to look down at me.

"Katara..." he panted. "You're... crying."

"I'm just... never mind, Aang."

"I'm hurting you," he perceived, taking my face into his hands and running his thumbs down the paths the teardrops had taken. "Oh, Spirits, Katara, I'm so sorry, I'm gonna stop right now..."

"No," I grabbed his wrists as I felt him trying to pull away. "Stay. Just… be more gentle... please?"

"Gentle..." he muttered, tears shining in his eyes. "I've been a monster."

"No, Aang. You just... didn't know better." I couldn't blame him. How could I? The only way of coupling he had known was what he had learned from Azula. It was time for him to learn a different approach. "But you will know now. I'm sure you will. Just go slowly. Carefully."

He nodded hesitantly, sniffed, and said, "I will make this up to you, Katara. I swear."

And he did. My gentle, caring Aang returned, and he made love to me. Together, we made a difference. He might still not be fully healthy, but that night he started to heal.

I still shiver at the memory of the moments following his promise. Every time I think of it – and I think of it quite often – my heartbeat picks up and I feel a strange, pleasant tingling in my belly. It is sweet torture. Sweet, because it reminds me of how a painful experience could turn into something beautiful, but a torment nevertheless, because it also reminds me of the need I feel for him. The need that hasn't been satiated since.

We never did it again. In the days and weeks past our special healing session we exchanged several glances, smiles and blushes, even fleeting caresses when no one would look, but we never went further. My brother and Zuko had no idea what had taken place, but they were a bit surprised by Aang's sudden improvement. I wasn't sure about Toph not suspecting anything though, as she kept giving both Aang and me knowing grins, her sightless eyes twinkling with mirth. I remember her expression at that horrible play, _The Boy in the Iceberg_. When Aang grumbled about being played by a woman, Toph snickered and said, "Oh, they nailed you, Twinkletoes. Or did they…? What do you think, Katara?"

I felt blood rushing to my cheeks and I spluttered, "I have... no idea what you're hinting at!"

She just laughed and continued enjoying the play. I did not enjoy it, however, and neither did Aang. His masculine pride was dealt a serious blow not only by the troupe's choice of actor – _actress_ –, but by the playwright's every second line. We all knew that there was no question about him being a male, we had all seen it and I had also _felt_ it. With every passing minute I hated the play more and more, and when the actress Katara claimed she had always had eyes for Zuko, I considered leaving the viewing box altogether. But Aang was quicker. I decided to give him time and space and didn't follow him immediately. After a while I got worried, though. He disappeared at the end of Act II and I went searching for him during Act III. I found him on the balcony, overlooking the sea.

"Katara," he said, recognising my footsteps even with his back turned on me, "did you really mean what you said in there?"

"In where? What are you talking about?"

"On stage. When you said I was just like a brother to you and you didn't have feelings for me."

How could he possibly assume such a thing – after all that had happened between us? "I didn't say that," I replied, hurt. "An actor said that."

"But it's true, isn't it? We made love by the creek and I thought we were going to be together but we're not."

I knew his question was a rightful one. He had expected me to say I loved him after I had claimed we had _made_ _love_. But I had not. I don't know why I had not, I just had not. Then again, neither had _he_ ever said he loved _me_. Of course, I knew he did, I know he still does. He has been quite obvious for months, I couldn't help noticing the signs. And yet he didn't voice his feelings. So I didn't either. Not by the creek, not in the theatre, ever. I'm beginning to think it was a mistake that I might never have a chance to correct. He might not return from his encounter with Fire Lord Ozai.

"Aang, I don't know," I replied to him on the theatre balcony.

"Why don't you know?"

"Because we're in the middle of a war and we have other things to worry about. This isn't the right time."

"Well, when is the right time?" he pressed.

_Now_ is the right time, I know it. Back then on the balcony, however, I could only say, "Aang, I'm sorry but right now, I'm just a little confused."

Truth be told, I wasn't really confused. I knew perfectly well that I loved him. I just didn't know how to tell him, whether to tell him at all before the war ended.

And it might be too late now.

I shudder once again.

"Are you sure you're not cold?" Zuko asks.

"I've only been... taking a walk down memory lane," I reply.

He squeezes my shoulder. "You know that Azula's been taken care of. She cannot harm anyone anymore."

I nod. I know she cannot. And I know – or at least I suspect – that she hasn't reached her aim with Aang either. Were she pregnant, I doubt if she'd risked the baby in a lethal battle with Zuko and me. Then again... it's Azula we're talking about. And she's undoubtedly insane. Her crown was at stake, so she might have decided to risk, even sacrifice an unborn child to keep her throne. And yet, she didn't manage to keep it. At least this one thing turned out all right. Zuko will be fire lord. _If_ his father doesn't return to reclaim his throne.

"Hey, look," Zuko says suddenly, pointing upwards. The sky is a dark, navy blue, and there's a shape moving towards the palace, a shape darker than the sky itself. I clutch at the balustrade I've been leaning against. Who could it be? Friend or foe? Aang or Ozai?

The war balloon descends in the square beneath our balcony, several small fires flickering on the edge of the square painting the balloon's dark mass in fiery red. I see a hatch open and two figures walk – or rather limp – down the ramp. The taller figure is leaning heavily on the shorter one. As they get closer to one of the fires and I recognise my brother and Toph.

"Sokka," I let out a small squeal, and before I know I'm shedding Zuko's cloak and running down the stairs. "Sokka! Toph!" I fling myself onto them, nearly toppling them over. As I get lost in my brother's embrace, I suddenly notice _him_ over Sokka's shoulder, standing on top of the ramp, his thin figure silhouetted against the soft light coming from inside of the balloon. His wrap is missing, he's only wearing a pair of battered pants, and yet his posture has never exuded more confidence, he had never looked so... grown-up.

I release my brother who nearly falls over once again – he yells I've trod on his healthy foot while his other leg is broken – but I don't care: I only want to hold Aang in my arms. He sees me and hurries down the ramp to meet me halfway. But we do not fall into each other's arms. For some reason – perhaps neither of us knows why – we stop within an arm's reach, panting, and gaze into one another's eyes.

"You're back," I whisper. "I was so worried... but this means you've won... haven't you?"

"Uh, yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, his confidence instantly replaced by his usual cute and awkward demeanour.

"Yes! You should've seen him!" Sokka limps closer, and begins to give me a full account of Aang's defeat of Fire Lord Ozai. I'm not saying I don't care for all the details, because I do. I'm not saying I'm not extremely proud of Aang's heroism and victory, because I am... but currently I just feel like kicking my brother in the ass for ruining my reunion with my favourite Avatar. _This_ could have been the moment for me to tell him I loved him, but with Sokka prattling about flying rocks, redirected lightning and the Avatar state, I catch myself fuming. My eyes meet Aang's again and he shrugs with an apologetic smile. I hope this means he too wishes we had a moment alone.

Eventually Zuko joins us with a few of his palace guard and Toph tells him, pointing at the balloon, "Hey, Sparky, just go in there and collect your good ol' dad. He's tied up and gagged. At first it was fun listening to his complaints, but it got tiresome after a while, so we had to shut him up."

"You mean... my father's... still alive?" Zuko looks at Aang, nonplussed. "You haven't killed him?"

"Well... no," Aang grins sheepishly. "I found a way around it."

"Yeah, he took Loser Lord's bending, would you believe that?" Sokka laughs, then winces. "Katara, you've really got to fix my leg, it's killing me!"

"You took his bending?" Zuko and I say in chorus, paying no attention to Sokka.

"I did," Aang nods and rubs his eyes. "And it took quite a bit out of me. I could really use some sleep. Zuko, can you get me a room or something? I mean... if you _are_ fire lord now. You are, aren't you?"

"I guess I am," Zuko shrugs. "Katara and I took care of Azula, and since you've taken care of my father, I doubt if there's still anyone standing between me and the throne."

"Great!" Aang stretches and yawns. "Ouch."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just a couple of bruises. I guess stretching doesn't help them much."

"Then come, I'll heal them," I offer, but he declines.

"Care for Sokka's leg first. Broken bones are loads worse than strained muscles.

"Okay," I sigh. I'll have to find out which room he's staying in. I'm not letting him go to bed without proper healing.

We wait for the guards to carry the ex-fire lord away, then we head for the palace. Aang keeps yawning and rubbing his eyes all the way through, and suddenly he reminds me of a little boy again – a child even younger than he really is. The main hall is brightly lit and there I see for the first time just how badly bruised his chest and arms are. There are cuts and burns everywhere and I'm itching to lay my hands on them and make them disappear. To lay my hands on him. But it has to wait.

I hear him mumble good night to us all as he enters a guest room. I reluctantly follow my friends supporting Sokka to another guest room nearby. By the time I start working on my brother's leg, he's already snoring. Toph is also resting in the adjacent room, and Aang… I'm sure he's fast asleep. I must be the only one awake.

I continue healing Sokka until my eyelids start to droop. I shake myself – I can't go to sleep yet. I've got to take care of Aang, whether he's awake or not.

I stand up and tiptoe my way to the door. The corridor is empty save for one single guard. I give him a vague smile as I pass, holding a bowl for water. He turns his head in curiosity when I knock on Aang's door, but he doesn't leave his post.

There's no reply to my knock, so I repeat it. Nothing. Aang must be asleep. I'll try not to wake him, I decide. I can be very gentle with my healing, he probably won't notice a thing.

I turn the doorknob and enter. His room is almost completely dark, there's only a thin streak of light spilling from the half-ajar door of the bathroom. I put the bowl on the nightstand and hesitantly take a step towards the door. Should I go in there? Would I not be intruding on his privacy? Yes, I know we've made love once, but it was at night with only the moon shining, we didn't see much of each other. I'm sure he would still be very shy about exposing himself. Especially after the first time he was exposed to us all.

I clear my throat. "Aang? Are you in there?" I know the question sounds stupid. Of course he's in there!

But I get no reply. What if he's hurt himself? Bathrooms are dangerous, one can slip and knock his head against the sink and…

I have to make sure he's all right! Even if I happen to see something I'm not supposed to see.

I gently push the door open and spot Aang sunk to his chin in a huge bath tub, his eyes closed, a small smile gracing his lips. He's asleep.

Both relief and disappointment wash over me as I realise he's wearing his shorts. His torn pants are lying on the rim of the tub, looking as though he had only had enough time and strength to get rid of them and tumble into the warm water before fatigue finally overpowered him.

I see his battered trunk through the water and my heart clenches. He looks so tiny now, so thin, so fragile… so young. It's hard to believe that this little boy has just defeated the most evil overlord in the world and even harder to believe that mere six weeks ago he was my lover. He looks too young for that. He _is_ too young for that. I feel suddenly guilty about the intimacy we shared. But it was for the greater good, wasn't it? It did not happen out of lust. On his part it happened out of desperation; it was a wordless cry for help, and on my part, it happened out of hope that I could offer him some comfort. I should not feel guilty, but I still do. Because I've been having these dreams ever since. These desires that I cannot satisfy and will not satisfy. Not now. Not yet.

A sudden idea strikes me and with a few deliberate moves I shed my clothes, leaving only my bindings on, then I sink into the tub next to him. The water is still pleasantly warm.

Tentatively I flatten my palm on the ugliest burn mark on his shoulder and the water glows blue around it. I concentrate, willing my healing powers to erase the mark, and when I pull my hand back, the uncovered patch of skin is once again unblemished. But there are still so many small wounds to tend to… I continue working.

I'm finished with almost half of them when he finally stirs and lets out a soft moan. I freeze. Have I unwillingly hurt him?

His eyes open just a fraction, and I can see stormy grey irises still unfocused. It takes him a while to realise that he's not alone and that it's me sitting next to him.

"Katara," he croaks. "What're you doing here?"

"Healing you. I promised you I would."

He blinks a few times and tries to pull himself upright, but winces again. I haven't yet had a chance to take care of his back.

"Come, I'll help you." Once he's sitting with a more or less straight back, I place my hands on a cut just below his lightning scar. The cut fades quickly and disappears, unlike the lightning scar that is still pink and ragged, an eternal memento to what Azula is capable of. But I know this is the smaller of the two scars she has given Aang. The more recent one is invisible, yet just as impossible to erase as the one in the middle of his back. And I fear… I _know_ it is running deeper than the earlier one.

"Katara, is everything all right?" he mutters and I realise that my hands have lingered too long over an already healed scratch. I catch myself licking tears from my lips. A few of them fall into the water, creating tiny rings. I have no idea when I started crying.

"I'm just… so glad to have you here with me," I choke back more tears. "I was so afraid I never would. I can't explain why, but… I still am."

He turns around and takes my hands into his. "I'm here, Katara. And I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

I can no longer hold back my sobs. I throw myself on him, circling his neck with my arms as if I never wanted to let him go. Well, I really don't want to.

"You know… this was what gave me strength," he whispers into my hair.

"What?" I hiccough.

"You. In my arms."

I pull back and stare at him in shock.

"What do you mean?"

He lets out a small laugh. "When I was out there, fighting Ozai, I didn't have the Avatar state on my side at first. I was deflecting his attacks with all four elements, but I wasn't strong enough to defeat him. His firebending, enhanced by the power of Sozin's comet was just too much. I was losing my strength… and my hope. Eventually I enclosed myself in a ball of earth. He began shooting fire at it, and soon it got so hot inside that I couldn't breathe… I really was giving up. That was when he started mocking me. He said I was weak like the rest of my people, a poor excuse for an Avatar, and that I wasn't even man enough to give him a grandchild."

I gasp and nearly punch the air in triumph, but I hold back.

"That was what truly changed everything," he carries on. "The knowledge that they haven't succeeded. The knowledge that they haven't won _that_ battle. They haven't got a baby from me and they haven't entirely broken me… thanks to you. There, inside the globe... nearly suffocating... I thought of you, Katara. And I entered the Avatar state."

"You mean…? But your access to it was blocked, wasn't it?"

"Yes. But not physically as I always thought. The block was inside of my mind. And it's no longer there. Because of you."

"Aang..."

"I love you, Katara. I always have and always will."

I never knew one could sob and laugh at the same time, but life has proven that one can. That I can. I'm both crying and laughing, hugging him tight again. "I... love you... too," I manage to utter between hiccups. He rubs my back gently, encouragingly, as though it were me who needed the healing touch, not him.

"It's okay," he mumbles. "Everything's gonna be all right now."

"Are you sure? This... everything just... seems too good to be true."

"I am sure," he draws back to look in my eyes. "The war is over. Ozai and Azula are in chains." He flashes me with a toothy grin. "It might sound silly, but what I'm most happy about is that Azula isn't having my baby."

I stare at him, unblinkingly. I just don't know what to say.

"Katara...?" he knits his eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"But I am," I reply.

"You're what?"

I tremble, although the water is still warm. I have no idea what he's just said. I haven't been following him for the last couple of seconds. The last words still echoing in my mind are: _Azula isn't having my baby. Azula isn't having my baby._

"But I am," I repeat. "I am having your baby."

"What?" Aang's already huge eyes grow to the size of saucers. He looks kind of comical. Cutely childish, not at all like a father-to-be. I blush and shrug.

"Sokka's gonna kill me," he breathes, staring into empty space. Then, suddenly, his eyes become focused again – focused on me. "Katara... may I?"

I have no idea what he's hinting at, but I know he would never harm me, so I nod. He places his palm on my stomach and closes his eyes. For a few seconds his tattoos glow and his eyelids twitch, then he looks up, grinning from ear to ear. "I can sense a heartbeat! And his chi... it's like... like... _mine_." He's still grinning, but his cheeks are wet with tears. "It's airbender chi, Katara..." He draws me back into his arms, and I can feel his slight form tremble with uncontrolled emotions. I know that he's frightened. But he's thrilled. Shocked, but overwhelmed by happiness. Just like I was last afternoon, when I learned of my condition.

I know Sokka and Dad will not applaud for us. I even feel a bit guilty as I realise I haven't given Dad much thought lately. I know he's in a Fire Nation prison somewhere, but he will hopefully be free soon. I can already imagine myself and Aang standing before him, blushing madly, stammering and trying to explain ourselves... I giggle into Aang's shoulder at the mental image. We are so screwed! But I couldn't care less.

"You know," he sniffs, "eight weeks ago I was a total mess. Even more than I let you guys see. I never thought I'd ever come close to being okay again. Not after what Azula did to me. But now... I guess I'm kind of grateful to her."

"Grateful?" Has he gone mad?

"Yeah," he chuckles. "Without her, this wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have _him_. Or _her_." He caresses my belly again. My goofy little Aang. He will be the best father in the world, I'm sure of it. No, I have no illusions that he's ready for it. Or that I am. Neither of us are. But we weren't ready for the war either. We weren't ready for having to risk our lives every day, and yet we did. And we survived. We saved the world. Surely handling a tiny, bawling bundle of joy wouldn't be beyond our capabilities. And should Sokka break Aang's leg – or nose – when he finds out, well, I'll just heal him. Because that's what I always do. And I'm really, really good at it.

**THE END**

**A/N: **The story 'A Change of Heart' by WanderingRurouni has been a bit of an inspiration for this fanfic. If you like Kataang and Azulaang, go, read it! But right now, please, **leave a review** for this story!


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